In my high school, it was "401" - referring to the room you had to report to if cited for being late for class or whatever other infraction merited an hour with Mr. Wojtas in detention. Wojtas, who really seemed to enjoy strolling up and down the aisles of the classroom, snapping a pencil in his palm, and enforcing the "no talking" rule could have come straight out of central casting for nerd-in-charge. Ferris Bueller or the St. Elmo's gang would have loved this guy. Mr. Wojtas, who was rumored to have other responsibilities - no one knew for sure what they were - wore a constant smirk, oblivious to the prevalent sentiment among the detainees that being a career detention monitor must rank about mid-way in Dante's layers of hell.
Yesterday, Mr. Wojtas in a Lake Oswego cop uniform pulled up behind me and cited me for failing to clear an intersection before the light changed, creating (he said) a terribly dangerous situation for the good citizens of the lovely community. I admit it. I didn't clearly calculate the speed at which the drivers in front of me were moving, and alas, Joan (my Jetta)'s rear end did impede the flow of traffic, although it really wasn't necessary for Officer Wojtas to add the drama to the dilemma. Smug little brat. Thank goodness lives were spared this time. So, now I get to send $97 to the municipality (because detention hall is not an option).
It took me 24 hours, but I had finally decided to quit stewing and just accept the consequences of being a less than competent commuter. Its a traffic ticket... the first one I've received in a good 20 years. Life goes on.
Today I came home to find a letter from the City of Portland notifying me that their radar documented me driving at 43 miles per hour on the Morrison Bridge where the recommended speed limit (okay... the prescribed speed limit) is 35 miles per hour. And there's a great shot of me in my new designer sun glasses right there on the ticket. At least my hair looked good. This one was a more grievous offense and will cause me to depart with $125 for my scofflaw ways.
So, friends and readers, be careful out there. I'm still on the road. And really, really annoyed with myself. And things always seem to happen in threes. And my insurance will probably go up. Its 401 all over again.
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5 comments:
Ohhh..bad days...such a bummer! OK,please explain Joan??? I love how you have a name for everything...and love the stories behind them more!!!
Me too -- I got a ticket a few weeks ago for, as you euphamistically put it, "failing to clear an intersection" (i.e. running a red light)...but mine was for $242! You got off easy, speed racer.
life lesson- having two lawyers (allegedly) with in the car with you doesn't help get out of such a situation. It was my first week in a new job,out with the new team and was taking one of the aforementioned lawyer-types to home (which, by the way, is half way to Boise) and I was "stung" at a tricky intersection with the same infraction. It's a racket, I tell you.
Ahhh...Joan Jett...I like it! Good one. And THANK YOU for the rockin' tips. Some I have used with success...and the others I am definitely going to try.
Have a great day!
Why is it that you remember 401 so clearly? I honestly don't remember ever being sent there, much less the nerd in charge. What I do remember is that at Marywood we were all issued demerit cards with twenty (or so)infraction spaces. If a detention was handed out, one of the spaces would be marked until they were all marked. Then, horror of horrors, the usually unpenitent offender was issued yet another card. Yes, if you didn't behave, you would accumulate demerit cards. I guess that we were supposed to feel guilty wasting paper? we were supposed to feel weighted down? we were supposed to feel humiliated?
I know that I never faced any recriminations for any of the demerits other than receiving multiple cards. I do think it is an "honor" of sorts that our sister Jane had the record for the most demerits ever issued in one school year, and I hold the record for the most demerits given in one day. Way to go Sr. Librarian Bad Breath--oh yes, Sr. Miriam. What delinquents we were.
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